Original:
And so, I have heard, the son of Weohstan,
quickly obeyed the command of his languishing
war-weary lord; he went in his chain-mail
under the rock-piled roof of the barrow,
exulting in his triumph, and saw beyond the seat,
a treasure-trove of astonishing richness,
wall-hangings that were a wonder to behold,
glittering gold spread across the ground,
the old dawn-scorching serpent's den
packed with goblets and vessels from the past,
tarnished and corroding. Rusty helmets
all eaten away. Armbands everywhere,
artfully wrought. How easily treasure
buried in the ground, gold hidden
however skillfully, can escape from any man!
And he saw too a standard, entirely of gold,
hanging high over the hoard,
a masterpiece of filigree; it glowed with light
so he could make out the ground at his feet
and inspect the valuables. Of the dragon there was no
remaining sigh: the sword had despatched him.
Then, the story goes, a certain man
plundered the hoard in that immemorial howe,
filled his arms with flagons and plates,
anything h wanted; and took the standard also,
most brilliant of banners
Already the blade
of the old king's sharp killing-sword
had done its worst: the one who had for long
minded the hoard, hovering over gold,
unleashing fire, surging forth
midnight after midnight, had been mown down.
Wiglaf went quickly, keen to get back,
excited by the treasure. Anxiety weighed
on his brave heart -- he was hoping he would find
the leader of the Geats alive where he had left him
helpless, earlier, on the open ground.
So he came to the place, carrying the treasure,
and found his lord bleeding profusely,
his life at an end; again he began
to swab his body. The beginnings of an utterance
broke out from the king's breast-cage.
The old lord gazed sadly at the gold.
Translation:
And then, I have heard that Wiglaf
quickly obeyed the commands of his
tired lord and went in his chain-mail
under the rock-piled roof of the barrow,
while exulting in his triumph. And then, beyond the seat,
he saw a treasure-trove full of astonishing riches;
wonderful wall-hangings,
gold spread across the ground.
The old dragon's den was
filled with old goblets and vessels from the past
that were tarnished and corroding. There were rusty helmets
that were all eaten away. There were armbands everywhere
that were artfully made. How easy it is for a man
to find treasure or gold
no matter how skillfully it is hidden!
And then he also saw a standard that was entirely made of gold,
hanging high above the hoard.
It was a masterpiece of art that glowed with light, enabling him to see the ground
inspect the valuables. There were
no remaining sign of the dragon, the sword had killed him.
Then Wiglaf took the treasure,
filled his arms with flagons, plates,
and anything he wanted. He also took the standard with him
as well, which was the most brilliant of all banners.
Beowulf's sword,
his sharp-killing sword
had done its worst. The dragon that had
minded the hoard for so long, flying over gold,
unleashing fire, and coming
midnight after midnight, had finally been killed.
Wiglaf quickly went back, anxious to return
and also excited by the treasure. He was
anxious, he was hoping to find Beowulf
alive where he had left him
helpless on the open ground.
So he arrived at the place, carrying the treasure,
only to find his lord bleeding,
his life at an end. Wiglaf
began to swab Beowulf's body again. Words came out from his mouth,
as Beowulf began to speak,
while looking sadly at the gold.
Beowulf Lines 2752~2793
Original:And so, I have heard, the son of Weohstan,
quickly obeyed the command of his languishing
war-weary lord; he went in his chain-mail
under the rock-piled roof of the barrow,
exulting in his triumph, and saw beyond the seat,
a treasure-trove of astonishing richness,
wall-hangings that were a wonder to behold,
glittering gold spread across the ground,
the old dawn-scorching serpent's den
packed with goblets and vessels from the past,
tarnished and corroding. Rusty helmets
all eaten away. Armbands everywhere,
artfully wrought. How easily treasure
buried in the ground, gold hidden
however skillfully, can escape from any man!
And he saw too a standard, entirely of gold,
hanging high over the hoard,
a masterpiece of filigree; it glowed with light
so he could make out the ground at his feet
and inspect the valuables. Of the dragon there was no
remaining sigh: the sword had despatched him.
Then, the story goes, a certain man
plundered the hoard in that immemorial howe,
filled his arms with flagons and plates,
anything h wanted; and took the standard also,
most brilliant of banners
Already the blade
of the old king's sharp killing-sword
had done its worst: the one who had for long
minded the hoard, hovering over gold,
unleashing fire, surging forth
midnight after midnight, had been mown down.
Wiglaf went quickly, keen to get back,
excited by the treasure. Anxiety weighed
on his brave heart -- he was hoping he would find
the leader of the Geats alive where he had left him
helpless, earlier, on the open ground.
So he came to the place, carrying the treasure,
and found his lord bleeding profusely,
his life at an end; again he began
to swab his body. The beginnings of an utterance
broke out from the king's breast-cage.
The old lord gazed sadly at the gold.
Translation:
And then, I have heard that Wiglaf
quickly obeyed the commands of his
tired lord and went in his chain-mail
under the rock-piled roof of the barrow,
while exulting in his triumph. And then, beyond the seat,
he saw a treasure-trove full of astonishing riches;
wonderful wall-hangings,
gold spread across the ground.
The old dragon's den was
filled with old goblets and vessels from the past
that were tarnished and corroding. There were rusty helmets
that were all eaten away. There were armbands everywhere
that were artfully made. How easy it is for a man
to find treasure or gold
no matter how skillfully it is hidden!
And then he also saw a standard that was entirely made of gold,
hanging high above the hoard.
It was a masterpiece of art that glowed with light,
enabling him to see the ground
inspect the valuables. There were
no remaining sign of the dragon, the sword had killed him.
Then Wiglaf took the treasure,
filled his arms with flagons, plates,
and anything he wanted. He also took the standard with him
as well, which was the most brilliant of all banners.
Beowulf's sword,
his sharp-killing sword
had done its worst. The dragon that had
minded the hoard for so long, flying over gold,
unleashing fire, and coming
midnight after midnight, had finally been killed.
Wiglaf quickly went back, anxious to return
and also excited by the treasure. He was
anxious, he was hoping to find Beowulf
alive where he had left him
helpless on the open ground.
So he arrived at the place, carrying the treasure,
only to find his lord bleeding,
his life at an end. Wiglaf
began to swab Beowulf's body again. Words came out from his mouth,
as Beowulf began to speak,
while looking sadly at the gold.